Beautiful Stranger II Redux
by Cordogg
Summary: Wingo the tuner and his romantic interest: a plain Jane nerd journalist, a chick he never thought he'd fall for. Wingo, Delinquents, Doc/Prince
1. Attempt 1

****Picking up where the last one ends, I bring you the sequel to Beautiful Stranger. Redux. For now this is M-rated, may likely change later on. Other characters will play prominent roles including Prince/Doc, but the crux of this story centers mainly on Wingo and Gwen. Pls enjoy***

Chapter One

Attempt #1

He had a relatively small pad at The Shack. Well, actually it was quite large. It was a spacious studio. Once it was him and Boost who shared a spacious loft at the complex but now his buddy was married with his own little family, Wingo saw no need for such large double-floor studio. So he downgraded when Boost moved out. His quarters were not cramped by any means but it was a lot smaller than what he and Boost had. It was suitable for a single bachelor with plenty room to roam about. He, like his buddies was a clean freak and a neat freak. The place was well kept, maybe with a few items sloppily situated here and there but nothing outrageously misplaced. He knew Gwen didn't care at all about his humble abode, even if she was used to monstrous-sized rooms and penthouses. She was serious when she stated she preferred middle, even lower-income crowds to the wealthy socialite life she was reared in. Not that Wingo was exactly poor. His net worth would be considered mid-income, maybe even in the upper middle income tier, given that he jointly owned the Axle nightclub with DJ. They pulled in good money running the club. Boost and Snotty weren't doing too bad either. In fact, Ramone had made Boost his business partner Boost used to work for him as his employee, now his business had expanded to nearly three times its original size. To show his appreciation for his work, Ramone literally gave Boost half of his business, which they operated. The place was now named Ramone's Delinquent Masters, Inc., and was a premier body detail shop. One that appeared several times on several shows, and was definitely famous for its superb work. Boost was now the joint owner with his former boss, and Wingo who did body art as a hobby, sometimes helped Boost and Ramone out. He was primarily a club owner with DJ, but he still had a license in auto body work too. As for good ol Snotty, he was still happy working at the auto shop in the middle of town, and had been promoted to floor manager. He wasn't doing too bad either.

As for him, well he had changed considerably because of _her._ Well, not a lot, but he had changed. He was still himself but with some physical and emotional alterations. That tall-ass spoiler of his was history as of a month ago, replaced with a much simpler one-level one like Boost's. He used to be full-blown hardcore rap and no other music. He still was mainly rap like DJ and Boost. But now he was listening to "weird shit" like Fall Out Boy, blasting damn Alanis Morissette out of his booming system as much as he did Dr. Dre. Because of _her_. And he _liked_ it. He dug hitting the coffee shop with a cup of latte with her, and was a well-seasoned poet. And a favorite. So popular he did gigs down in Phoenix, Southern California, Las Vegas and Atlanta. Turned out she dug spoken poetry too along with that java chip. He wasn't wearing it at the moment but now he almost always touted either a green or a black slouching beanie cap. Gwen was known to constantly wear hers. Like her, he wore glasses now, thanks to being diagnosed with eyesight issues a month ago. And he had the coolest-looking glasses. Two pairs of them, one was round but turned into pitch-black sunshades when the sun hit them.

The ones he sported now were his favorite: round keyhole ones with the clear lens that had flip-over lenses that instantly converted them into sun glasses when he shook them down. They were deep purple with a mixture of translucent pink and green when various angles of light hit. He called these ones his "hippie glasses" because they looked like something Filmore would wear. Speaking of hippies he was much more aware of the environment now...just like Filmore...and thanks to her. But he was still that same ol' cool cat Wingo with that bad boy streak, still flaunting traces of his hoodlum days. He cursed like a sailor, smoked heavily, drank, and kicked that hood slang like DJ and Boost. He knew all about "da' hood" and the streets like DJ. He was still very much a Delinquent all the way. But meeting Gwen transformed him, just like he did her. He got her addicted to rap music now, and though she didn't even drink or smoke, she was always curious about the various terminologies for street drugs since he used to deal drugs as a gangster down in Cali. She loved his hard style and his blunt ways. Wingo was so cool that when he went back to Cali to visit his family even the Crips and Bloods dug his poetic style and look. He might have been a civilian but he was still family to them.

Gwen never meant to change his diet at all but she unintentionally did. He ate much healthier now because of her. He still was no vegetarian but he cut down on alot of stuff he used to eat. And he was a huge coffee fan now. Every Saturday he hit Carbucks with her for a cup, and while she stuck to her soy cappuccinos and lattes, his favorite joe was a venti caramel frappuccino with 8 pumps of frap roast and extra caramel. Before his run-in with this Gwen chick he was no fan of coffee at all. Now he was. He still stuck to his 40-ounce Old English and beer, and gin and juice, but now added the frappuccino to that list of beloved drinks.

Wingo smiled as he glanced around his place. He used the remote to dim the lights to a darkened atmosphere. He had several candles lit and he stared at the large double-tiered mat in the center of his place. This was an expensive piece he had, custom-made as soon as he moved in here. It had to be shipped here, then reassembled. When he moved, the manufacturer would have to take it apart again, ship it wherever and then put it back together. It was a standard floor mat made of the softest rubber there was, then had two slanted ramp, one heavily padded for a lazy vehicle that didn't want to sleep normally. That was, right-side up. Many chose to crawl up a thirty-degree slant and just flop themselves over on it. Being flat on one's back was an uncomfortable position for one to be in, not to mention the trouble of trying to right oneself back on all fours. It was damn near impossible. Acrobats maybe. But a 30-degree angle was tolerable for any vehicle, and allowed the snoozer to rest comfortably "leaned back", while making it easy to just roll over on all fours again before sliding down. It also was very useful for another purpose.

At least he suspected that.

He was no engineer, but from looking at the thing one didn't have to be in that field to know it _could_ be used for such a purpose. That part of his ramp mat was situated right below a second one that was elevated a few feet higher and had an opening where the two parts of it met. Wingo forgot exactly what this part of the contraption was for, but remembered the store lady telling him something about small children or such. So a parent could be on the bottom with the kid sleeping on top, or something to the effect. As he studied it earlier he realized it could be put to use for something else. She was not tiny but her model was probably small enough to get on it. Maybe. MINI Coopers were not micro cars at all, far from it, but they were a bit more compact than most. Now that he got a good look at it, he wasn't sure. She might be able to drive on it. Maybe. Most likely no. Not with her lack of coordination. He'd see when she got here.

She actually dug his mat assembly but never actually slept on it as she never stayed the night. She'd come over and kick it with him, hop in his shower, hang out with him some more, and then leave. Tonight would be her first sleepover with him. Even now he wasn't really planning anything, at least originally. But the more he anticipated her arrival the more self-evident his urge became. When Wingo was growing aroused, he grew quiet.

Which was why when she rang his buzzer and he opened his garage, he said nothing to her when she greeted him. A simple nod was his response when she said "Hey. " with that bright smile of hers. His look was calm and emotionless as he shifted his front half hinting at her to come in. She shook her back side to dislodge her purse from her side while ever the gentleman, he removed her small gym bag from her back. He supposed he could have met her at her spot and then escorted her here but he wasn't thinking. She didn't seem to care. "I rented _Thelma & Louise,_" she said. "You'll like it trust me." He only partially heard her, but suspected it was yet another chick flick and he didn't mind. He was of the opinion that females tended to pick better films. Guys were mostly about mayhem and things getting blown to smithereens, which was fine by him. He liked exploding shit. Girls like exploding things in movies too but they seemed to focus more on actual story lines. They tended to prefer films that told an actual tale, as opposed to a mash of loosely-tied plot holes. Not to say there were no good men directors out there. There were plenty who made awesome chick flicks. Thanks to his sisters and exes always dragging him along to movies to watch such films when he was back in Cali, he concluded long ago that women were just better at movie-picking than men were. He was sure he wouldn't be disappointed by Gwen's selection.

"It takes a little while to get started but it's like, really good." "I'm sure it is." Wingo muttered as he watched her get situated in the corner of his family room. "Is something wrong?" she worried, noticing his stony expression.

"No, not really." he answered, but he was still watching her with that look as though, she couldn't quite put it, she was disturbing him with her presence. Did she come at a bad time? Was he pissed off at her? He didn't look mad at all. She couldn't really describe how he looked other than he looked like he was in the middle of doing something and she disrupted it by showing up so now his way of coping with it was to fall silent to his guest. Or, maybe she had done something and he found out about it? An uneasy sensation befell her as she tended to her small bag. "If this isn't a good time, um, I can um…I don't wanna' impose."

"You're not imposing at all. If that was the case I wouldn't have answered my phone or my door. I wouldn't be fucking wichu' right now wichu' standin' here if you were 'imposing'. Real talk." he answered curtly and he was looking dead at her. She didn't know Wingo well. This was how he got when he was getting in the mood. Okay then, maybe it was nothing she decided but she was still unsettled by his response. She glanced around the room. "If you're looking for the remote it's up on top, top part of the mat ramp, if you can grab it." he instructed.

She didn't know he strategically placed it there. She nodded and started to make her way up it, albeit cautiously. She had never been on a mat like this one, though she did dig it. It was a bit narrow, she could fit on it, and it had ladder-like openings in it. Only the sides were solid for the wheels to fit in. "It's sturdy, trust me. My heavy ass may collapse it because I'm solid. But it'll hold your little weight." he eased her fear. She heard him speak to her and his voice grew closer with every word. She noticed he had cruised to the floor end of the mat, then after a pause, casually flipped himself over until he was slouched back on the 30-degree part of it. she glimpsed his magnificent underside and for the first time noticed the small row of speakers. She didn't know guys could have speakers put there too. But then again boom cars tended to put speakers, woofers and the like all over. "Okay." She agreed albeit hesitantly. She still was unsure but she trusted him. Besides if she lost her balance he was right there below her. She'd end up landing on his face. That was not likely to happen given her clumsiness anyway, she'd most likely get stuck trying to get up on the thing, and his prediction proved right.

Why on Earth she didn't just start at the bottom and then cruise up like a normal car would was beyond him. Instead, she inexplicably chose to try to climb onto it midway. He struggled to keep a straight face as he watched her unwieldy attempt to stick each tire, one-by-one, into the sides to the ramp, like she was trying to climb over him. All the while she was doing this he got a gorgeous view of her pristine undercarriage. Painted white like the rest of her which was a first as most chose never to do this.

"Sorry." she grinned bashfully when she almost lost her grip. Her back axle….along with her whole back tire…had now become wedged in one of the openings, splaying her bottom half outwards. Now she had one tire dangling over the edge and the other stuck right above his front. _Just like he wanted._

x

Some music emanated from him at a moderate volume. " _Salvatore_ " by _Lana Del Rey_ began to play. Gwen reminded him a lot of this newfound artist he grew to love. Wingo loved Lana Del Rey now because of her. Gwen was a plain simpleton indeed, but she still had a nostalgic 1940s-to-60s feel to her. Even many of the accessories she wore had that period piece vibe to them. Wingo dug that about her. Lana Del Rey was one of her favorite singers and she unintentionally got Wingo hooked to her. So for him, playing a Lana Del Rey tune while preparing to get it on was the ideal setting. The EQ was just perfect and was not over done, and she suddenly felt him nuzzling her underside with his face. A mix of uncertainty and anticipation waltzed across her cute face. She suddenly jolted so violently that she almost lost her grip and fell off, and had she done so she would have been hanging almost upside down due to her stuck back limb. Her small oil cap had been dislodged and it dawned on her that he was trying to pull off the top to her oil pan with his teeth. It was awfully secure, to the point where he grew impatient in his struggle with it.

"Goddamn girl, why is your shit on here so tight?" he mumbled more to himself than her, and he was smiling when he did it. But what he said next was directed towards her where she could hear him. "I'm not even playin yo'. Im'a _rip_ this motherfucker off you in a minute - .."

His voice turned feral before the abrupt halt in his tone, heralding he had finally succeeded in peeling it off with his teeth. Albeit gingerly. She then felt a wet invasion. An incursion into her oil pan. She froze in her position, mouth wide open, eyes wide and wild. So this was what this felt like. She knew all about it, just never had it done. The two guys she banged before basically just jumped on her and did their thing and that was it. She serviced them but never got an exchange, a fact that still disgusted Wingo when he overheard her friends discussing it. It was so unfair to her he figured. So his plan tonight was to show her how real men handled their girls. He felt her struggling to break her jammed tire free and stopped her. "Fuck yo' back tire man. Leave it there and relax baby. C'mon. I don't bite. That is...unless you want me to. Don't say shit. Just take this all in. Holler if you have to. I want you to feel _good_. We're gonna take it slow n' easy." he rumbled in his trademark tooth-clenching growl.

He inhaled with a hiss. " _Shit girl...you taste as good as you smell. Look at this pretty lil' motherfucker. Cain't believe nobody ever licked out your snatch man; sweet as this shit looks? Ohhhhh yeahhhhhhh..._ "

Gwen was shaking, hard. Pitiful moans rose from her when she wasn't panting. She almost appeared to be splayed out on his face, her back sitting on it. She was undergoing an oral copulation at the moment and was turning into a wreck because of it. She let out a squeaking cry, coyly bucking into his face. She was hesitant to move much as she wasn't sure how to grind with his mouth. When she felt him grasp her sides with his tires to guide her into a rhythm she began to fall into it. Her front collapsed on top of him as her mouth widened. "Oh..." she let out quietly as one of her back tires began shaking uncontrollably. She hissed her approval as her eyes rolled back. An inarticulate sound tore from her throat akin to one one would make in pain or despair, but it was neither despair nor pain she felt. It was wondrous. Ecstasy caused her sudden groan.

"Oo-ooooo….(*gasp*) Mr. Wingo…!" she mewled. "*GASP*. Oh yes, yes, yes...ssssss Oh my _**GOD!**_ *" She almost yelled that time because he clearly hit the right spot as she tensed around his pink tongue that plummeted deep inside. A huge smile sketched on her face. He responded with a throaty growl complete with a wry chuckle.

Gosh, this felt good as heck.

He was readying to pick up the pace a bit.

Then the garage bell rang.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The Silvia growled irately. He noticed that Gwen's lower half was now pressing hard into him in an effort to keep him from not halting his activity. He smiled, but he had to get the door. Well, actually, he didn't "have" to. He debated to ignore it and finish her off but could hear arguing on the other side. He looked up at her. She was looking down at him, swallowing. "Wait here." he whispered to her, and then planted a quick, pecking kiss - right on her pan opening - causing her to jolt when he did. He chuckled at the reflexive reaction it caused. He righted himself and drove to the front of his garage, activating it, then he halted, eyes wider.

It was his neighbors Carlos and Diane, arguing as usual. They became great Shack pals to Wingo, but when they got drunk they argued like crazy.


	2. Carlos & Diane

**_** a heads up: I'm just going by what I type in the translation box and hope it is correct. (forgive me if I didn't and definitely inform me if I got it wrong)._**

Chapter 2  
Carlos & Diane

The red and black 2010 Toyota Yaris barged inside first before Wingo could greet either of them, pointing her tire backwards at her husband. She was a beauty but clearly plastered, and she dragged a box of Froot Loops in front of her. "Wingo; tell him to go buy some more! He ate up all of the Froot Loops!"

Wingo was looking at her, dismay prevalent all over his face. She and her hubby Carlos, argued about the weirdest shit. The weirdest stuff.

"What?"

"Youh' see this? LOOK ATHH' THIS SHIT." She went over to the kitchen area—without permission, tore a paper towel off of the roller hanging over the sink and placed it on the counter. Almost gingerly, she dumped the contents of the cereal box into the napkin. Three ringlets tumbled out. Two blue and one yellow. Wingo really didn't mind her or her husband just entering like this, as he had long grown used to it. "One, two….THREE!" she counted each one. "Three damn Froot Loops in this box! Why didn't he just finish these three off?!"

The Silvia hesitated. "Um…"

"I had a taste for Froot Loops and he ate all of it! Except for these three!"

Hearing the commotion, Gwen struggled in her corner of the room to free herself. The sudden visitor had yet to see her there. She watched her lover turn to face the door just as a blitzed gooseberry green 2011 Mastretta MXT strolled in, so wasted one of his half-opened eyes was opened more than the other. When sober both eyelids were leveled off, but when wasted one was a bit wider than the other. The whites of them were taking on a pinkish-red tone, an indicator that he was especially torn up from excess drinking. Right away he addressed Wingo in his native Spanish.

"Estoy harto de su quejándose de ese maldito cereal Ese."  
 _-I'm so sick of her complaining about that damn cereal Ese._

Of course, Wingo hadn't slightest clue what he was saying as he spoke no Spanish. Nor did this Mexican-born Matretta speak English. He could understand most of it. He just couldn't speak it. His wife, the Yaris spoke no Spanish, and she could not understand it, either. She got some words here and there, but not enough to communicate with him. She was lucky that some at the Shack were bilingual, and there was always Ramone. Stranger still was that these two were a couple, married now for nearly fifteen years. Fifteen years, and they couldn't understand each other after all these years. Neither Wingo, nor any of the other residents of Radiator Springs got this, how they even hooked up, let alone tied the knot with language barriers being so glaring. They were sure these two drew stares from their previous residence in Milwaukee. But there was somebody for everybody. And really, they made a nice-looking couple. A nice-looking couple who went off the rails when they drank, which was a lot. Carlos began cursing at her.

"Todo lo que tienes que hacer es perra acerca de todo lo que se come; es comida! Se supone que al conseguir comido usted tonto perra!". - _All you do is bitch about everything that gets eaten; it's food! It's supposed to get eaten you dumb bitch!_

"I know you did this on purpose Carlos; you're always doing this kind of shit to get under my gears. Three pieces of cereal in here? Why didn't you just finish this shit off?!" Diane hollered at him. Carlos took on a more severe look as he watched near the doorway. "Salí de tres piezas, ¿no? ¿Por qué no comer esas tres piezas y cierre la mierda arriba JODER!" - _I left you three pieces, didn't I? Why don't you eat those three pieces and shut the FUCK UP!_

"He always does this to me Wingo; I'm so sick of him doing this to me. I wanted some cereal and you ate all of it but these three pieces in the box! I HATE YEW-wwwww!" Diane began to break down and rushed to the back of Wingo's studio where Gwen was. Wingo saw she was losing it and pursued her. "C'mon Diane it's not that serious! Carlos, man. Go get some more cereal man. That is kinda foul, to leave three pieces in the box like that. I'd kinda be pissed too." he chastised Carlos. "No sabía que había tres piezas que quedan. Pensé que lo tengo todo cuando comí. Y no quería dejar la casilla vacía en el mostrador para ella encontrar; me olvidé de tirar a la basura" - _I didn't know there were three pieces left. I thought I got it all when I ate it. And I didn't mean to leave the empty box on the counter for her to find it; I forgot to throw it away_.

Gwen had just freed her stuck back tire and was sliding cautiously downwards while her front ones gripped the sides. It was a troublesome endeavor since she couldn't drive backwards. Well she could had she not gotten stuck in the first place, but she was hanging off the side. Stuck like this, she had no choice but to slide down cemented on the side of it. She inched a little downwards, and then stop, gather herself, then slide down a bit more. A sudden shadow swept in over her. She startled with a shriek as the form of Diane suddenly climbed over her, momentarily surprising her. The Yaris was a complete wreck, sobbing and venting. Then she noticed Gwen. "Hey. How are you? I'm Diane Wingo's neighbor." she introduced politely through her tears. "Um, hi. Gwen." she returned the greeting. Temporarily forgetting her spat with her man, Diane engaged her in a brief exchange of pleasantries. She had done a complete 360 with her emotions in that moment. "You a friend of Wingo's?"

"Yeah, um actually he and I are dating." the mini cooper smiled politely up at her.

"He's a great guy. Couldn't have a better friend than him, ser'ously. Oh, and your pan cap is off." she shot a motioning look near Gwen's back.

Gwen recoiled in horror. "Oh, crap!" she whispered and discreetly mashed herself against the metal railing in an effort to untwist the band that held it back into position. How embarrassing. "Hey!" Diane shouted at Wingo. "You gotta girl in your pad with her cap off in full view of guests! Why are you exposing this girl like this for all to see; what's the matter with you dude?! What the fuck Wingo, at least snap it back on her before you get the door, man, Sheesh!" Wingo almost forgot about that and was quick to try to correct it. "Shit; Gwen; I'm sorry! I'm so sorry." he pleaded and raced to help her secure it. "It's okay." she said. "Let go of the rail first; I gotchu'." he whispered to her. She was trying but her signature clumsiness prevented him from trying to slip it back on. He had no choice but to snap it back into place with his mouth...when neither Carlos nor Diane were looking. They were too busy going at each others' throats for a second, giving him his shot to do it in that second. This was so brazen, what he did. Not like he had a choice at the moment. She sheepishly giggled at him as he grinned at her behind their backs.

He also managed to do it before Diane refocused on him in the midst of chewing out Carlos. "I get you were having a private moment and all but at least be a fucking gentleman next time and pop it back on. If you're not gonna rev her at least have the decency to snap it back on. What kind of dude are you?!" Diane protested. Then she heard Carlos coming in her direction again, arguing some more. Immediately Diane transformed into her distraught mode, picking up where she left off before noticing Gwen's presence. "No; don't _**you**_ say nothing to me; leave me alone! I fucking hate you Carlos. YOU ALWAYS DO THIS SHIT TO ME, YOU BASTARD…(*Soo-ooooobb*)!" and she raced to get away from him by starting up the mat ramp, accidentally knocking over several books and pictures as she did. Wingo was trying to stop her. "What the hell….? Diane! Wait! No!". Carlos was at the bottom yelling at her as she made it clumsily to the top, and reached for the skylight window. Gwen watched on thoroughly confused by the bizarre greeting she just had with the new neighbor. She was still trying to discern how in the hell she went from having an intimate feel-good session with her beau to facing down two complete strangers arguing in the middle of his pad.

"Mire usted maldito desgarrando su mierda! Estás loca mujer! Rompes todas sus cosas y arreglar para salir de la ventana ahora? A lo largo de cereales? Espero que tu culo borracho cae fuera de la ventana!" - _Look at you fucking tearing up his shit! You crazy female! You're breaking all of his stuff and fixing to climb out of a window now? Over some cereal? I hope your drunk ass falls out the window!_

As she rambled on about her man not caring about her feelings, Wingo was pleading with her to stop while Gwen looked on in sheer fascination. Her boyfriend sure had some interesting neighbors. "Carlos! Stop her!" Wingo demanded. He was trying, hurling insults at her as he did with neither understanding what was being said. But still he tried to coax her to come down.

x

Diane made her way to the rooftop, much to Wingo's and Gwen's surprise. The move took even Carlos back and he was now genuinely concerned for her safety. "Shit' she's on the roof dog." Wingo peered out, still amazed she made it. He saw Carlos below. He had gone outside and was now attempting to talk his wife into coming down. He looked worried. "Get away from me; you always do this to me, Carlos. I'm SICK OF THIS SHIT!" Diane could be heard sobbing. "I'm so sorry about this." Wingo pitifully told Gwen as he raced outside, and she followed him out. A small crowd was gathering, watching Diane on the roof of the Shack, hurling obscenities down at her husband. He was begging for her to come down. "Diane que estoy hablando en serio esto no es gracioso nunca más; no quiero que se lastimen! Bebé por favor venir abajo antes de caer! Perderás tu saldo!" - _Diane I'm serious this isn't funny anymore; I don't want you to get hurt! Baby please come down before you fall! You'll lose your balance!._ By now some of Sheriff's officers pulled up to access the scene. Right away they knew the deal and prepped for it. They had responded to this couple so much that they didn't even have their guard up when answering the call. It was a surprise that these two never got evicted because they caused such a ruckus when they drank. Carlos and Diane were great tenants for the most part, even when drunk. And honestly, all the landlords they ever had as well as the other tenants agreed they made for great entertainment. Police were accustomed to dealing with these two.

"Gwen, I'm really sorry about all this; this is not how I planned our evening." Wingo told her. "Oh I'm straight. This is kinda fun actually. I mean; I don't want her to get hurt, but this is a bit entertaining." she told him. "Diane and Carlos, my buddies. They're cool people. They really are when they're sober. They're married. Married for 15 years and he doesn't speak English, and she speaks no Spanish." Wingo explained to her. "Are you serious?" Gwen was surprised. "Yep. Somehow, they managed to make it work. They really do love each other. But when they drink they tend to get a bit crazy. Diane especially. She really flies off the handle when she's lit. Weirdest-ass couple I've ever seen. Never seen motherfuckers like these two." Wingo described them.

Diana was teetering close to the edge, and she still wasn't done drinking. She whipped out her small flask, retracted the straw in it and proceeded to take a long, hard suck of the vodka she had in it. Carlos now appeared angry.

"Ya estás borracho! Este Crazy Bitch…!" - _You're already drunk! This crazy bitch…!_

Wingo pulled forward. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Diane! That's enough Di' for real. C'mon. Stop drinking that shit; you're already tore up! "

"Slow down on whateva' yew drankin'! Diane, come on off the roof now." Four Wheel tried to talk to her. "Bebé me siento bien? Puedo ir a comprar más Froot Loops. Ahora va a venir abajo?" - _Baby I'm sorry okay? I go buy more Froot Loops. Now will you come down?_ Carlos begged her sincerely. She hurled her now-empty flask at him. "I dont want to t'halk to you. GO AWAY!" He begged some more.

She sensed that he was apologizing and decided to come down. There was a ramp that led downwards at the top of the roof. But juiced up, she felt she could go off the edge, despite everyone begging her not to. Plus she just took a giant swig of alcohol and it was seriously messing with her internals. She felt powerful at the moment. "No I got this! I can do this." she protested and turned until her back end was facing the edge. Her aim was she'd try to dangle off the edge with her front limbs, calculate the drop and just land on all fours. It really wasn't that far down, but she was too wasted to do it. Despite the pleas of "Don'ts" and begging, she was determined to show her method would work. She was so busy arguing with her husband below that she drove right over the edge of the roof.

There were loud gasps, and a few screams as she landed with an awful thud right into some bushes below. Wingo was truly terrified by what he just witnessed as was Carlos who was the first one to her. He was hysterical, cursing in Spanish. "Diane? DIANE! You okay?" Wingo asked. She didn't appear to be badly hurt, but it was an awful tumble.

"* _ **UUUUUuuuuuuuuhhhhh. *(groan)* UUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHH! *Sob* FUCK MEeeeeeeeeee! UHHHHHHH — HURTS***_!"

Diane began emitting a series of long, slurred drawn-out groans, mixed with weeping. She broke her back axle. Wingo couldn't help it; he had to laugh. He tried hard not to but this was some funny-ass shit. It wasn't funny that she got hurt at all. Even Four Wheel cracked a grin. Carlos now let her have it, ripping into her for talking so much trash while at the same time upset she was hurt. Even Gwen found the situation hilarious, despite the fact Diane was injured. It was how she fell. "Diane? Don't move okay? Just hold still till we get'chu to Michael and Doc. Just don't move." Wingo coaxed her. She was still bawling. Wingo looked at Gwen who was looking at him. "Will she be okay?" she asked softly. "Yeah. She will." he told her. They saw her off to the emergency ward, and then retreated inside to clean up the minor damage Diane caused. "After we do this, let's watch _Thelma & Louise_, okay? What we started, we'll finish it up some other day." Wingo suggested. She agreed.

"Sounds like a plan to me."


End file.
